It's Nothing - Star Wars: Rebels Fanfiction
by AnoeWrites
Summary: It was supposed to be a quick and easy supply run, but you aren't supposed to get sick on sed supply run. Sick!Ezra fanfic, as much of an enjoyable cliche as it is. I hope ya'll enjoy!
1. Introduction - Chapter 1

**Hello! Before anything, I'd like to point out this is my first fanfiction, so my wording may be a bit awkward, or a bit out of sorts. Never really was the type to be good at getting into things, ya'know? If there's something incorrect or flat-out wrong, a simple correction over a flaming comment would be highly appreciated, if that isn't too much to ask. I'd like to thank ya'll for at the very least, clicking on this to read it. It's a start, yeah?**

 **Anyway, I got distracted; this'll probably run on, since it's more for a stress reliever. Some things might not be on-point accurate, since I'm not doing extensive research like I kind of want to. Also; it's three am. Thirty five, to be more specific, so you know it's gonna be good.**

 **So, a Star Wars: Rebels fanfiction. Fun, innit? A sickness one, as much as an enjoyable cliché as it is. It's a shame there aren't more out there; or, I'm not looking in the correct places. Either way, they're both a damn shame.**

 **I hope ya'll like this, for the small and most likely short chapter this'll be. It's honestly just an opening**

 **[Heads up; this is before the events of Malachor]**

* * *

You aren't supposed to get sick during a supply run.

A day ago- or, was it more? Was it less? Ezra couldn't really tell- Hera had sent Zeb and Ezra off to do a quick supply run on a relatively new planet to their knowledge. It was an.. Off planet, with warm days and nights that wouldn't hesitate to give you hypothermia if not careful. It was on the outskirts of a pretty dead system, as to why the Empire had not overtaken the planet.

Pirates and illegal merchants had found their way to the haven of a planet, and set up a trading post near a town. For the bastardous founders, the community was pretty decent compared to them. The rebellion took note of this, and when the Ghost crew ran out of supplies on a supposedly-quick mission? That was their to-go place. They weren't disappointed, either.

They had landed to the outskirts of the Romsey, the town's unofficial name. The grass was a dulled shade of green, almost neon flowers openly pointed towards the sun. Two moons sat side-by-side, the orange sun about an hour away from the horizon. The contrast of it all was quite appealing; but they weren't there to gawk at the scenery. They had to grab the supplies and leave as quickly as they could.

The ghost's dock has opened, with Kanan, Ezra, and Zeb walking down it. Hera was perched atop the bridge, looking down wearily at the new surroundings. Her thin lips were in a minor frown, as she glanced at the jedi. "Kanan," She started, her eyes rimming over the other two before finally settling on the distant civilization. "I want you all back before sundown. The nights get extremely cold, and we don't have the clothing to withstand it. Chopper and I will be working on the Ghost, Sabine has wanted to.. Make a few 'upgrades'." Her voice lingered at upgrades, before taking a sigh and glancing behind her at a grinning mandalorian.

Ezra let out a small snort, a friendly smirk running along his face, before muttering, "Trigger-happy."

Zeb armed the padawan, not hard enough to hurt him, but enough to let him know he heard him. Ignoring the kid's revenge-punches, he looked back up at Hera. "Yeah, alright. I'll make sure they're both back."

Hera glared at the two, before turning a bit to go back inside the Ghost. "You two- stay out of trouble," Was all she had to say. She shuffled back inside, Chopper closing the bridge. It shut with a off click, and that was their sign to hurry on their way.

Kanan was the first to turn, motioning the other two to do the same. Previously silent, he began to break the silence. "This is a town of pirates and thieves," He said, his green eyes shooting glares at the open-village in the distance. It wasn't that far away, now especially since they started walking towards it. "Be careful not to be pickpocketed." His voice held a hint of remembrance, and Ezra could sense a feeling of discomfort and distrust towards the trade posts. It was a subtle feeling, though, as Kanan was trying his best to shove the emotion away.

Zeb was in front of the other two when they had almost arrived. For the silent walk, he spoke up. His eyes grazed the position of the sun, and a strained sigh accented his rough voice. "Karabast. We don't have much time." He looked back at the maze of crowds and stands, other ships parked on the edge of it all. People were running around, shoving each other, talking, laughing, or fighting about prices. Mostly the latter. It was a hub for people of all backgrounds- it was pretty obvious. "Kanan, we should split up. Ezra goes with you, I'll grab all the mechanicals."

The dark-haired boy looked at the crowd, his hand brushing over the lightsaber tucked away at his waist for a calm sense. It wasn't an aggressive motion, but the feeling of his lightsaber always did bring him a bit of comfort, even in the strangest of scenarios. Who knows who's in the crowd, right?

Kanan looked up at the taller male, before glancing back once again. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Ezra-" He motioned for him to follow, and the trio split up.

I went well, extremely well, actually; nobody got pickpocketed, run out of a sale, none of the sorts. It only started to go downhill nearing sundown. A chill was in the air, and everyone knew it; The crowds got denser, trying to get everything before nightfall. Unfortunately, Ezra had gotten stuck in that density, and separated from the others.

Ezra was following Kanan, talking to him about random things; Sabine's latest artwork, lothcats, the strangest planets they've been to- and after a laugh at a joke Kanan cracked, a band of people was wedged between them. Not fearing much, Ezra headed in the direction Kanan originally was heading with him. The problem was- a few minutes of trying to catch up to his mentor, and he reached the barren edge of the posts. That's when he started worrying.

The dark-haired boy had attempted to contact Kanan via the Force, somehow, but ended up getting overwhelmed with all the force signatures in the area. It was similar to social anxiety, as Ezra tried to move through the crowd. He obviously did not want to be there, in a ocean of people and on a time limit. Almost fortunately, the crowd was thinning out not too soon after; but the temperature was dropping.

Of course, Ezra did run back into Kanan and Zeb. It was almost dark, and was uncomfortably cold, so they had to hurry back to the Ghost. Kanan was asking where he had been, not in an angered tone, though, and Zeb was lightly teasing him. It was nightfall just when they reached the Ghost, to a worried Hera and an annoyed Chopper, who would not stop trying to taze them for being late.

Well; that's all good and dandy, until the next day, when Ezra has realized he was sick.


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay! So- I made this chapter before publishing the first chapter. [Due to the 12-hour waiting period] I have no idea how the feedback will be, and I will address it in the next chapter.**

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **[Heads up; this is before the events of Malachor]**

* * *

Ezra groggily turned in his bed, gripping his blanket and trying his best to get comfortable. He was _cold_ , extremely cold, but his head pounded and felt like fire. He was trembling, he noted, and was curled up against the wall. His breaths were ragged, and all in all, he felt horrible. He was in a small state of confusion, having just woke up from a livid fever dream, before realizing how much his throat also burned. At an attempt to sit up, he just ended up in a coughing fit. Oh, he tried his best to repress it, but he felt so weak; It wasn't a powerless weak, it was a sick weak. Exhaustion weak. An annoyed sigh parted his lips, as he glanced around for some indicator of the time. He concluded it was still night, as it was still quiet. Eerily quiet, he might add.

His head pounded, and when he moved on his side, a sharp pain on his elbow made him wince, a hiss of regret as he shifted his weight to the other arm. His arm was shaking as he raised it, expecting to see an open wound by the hurt of it. It was dark, but he could still see a deep purple against his skin, a tender spot he must've hit on a corner while in the frantic search.

His fingers lightly traced the outline of it, thinking of what to do know. It was.. What, midnight? A bit after? He felt horrible, and couldn't go back to sleep without feverish nightmares that taunted his already aching head. And then- what about training? He couldn't just ignore it because of a little sickness, it was much more serious than that.

After a while of thinking, Ezra decided he'd just pop a fever reducer and force himself to sleep. He was exhausted, and after years of dealing with nightmares? He could stand a day or two with them. Hopping from his bed, that's what he did. Grabbed one fever reducer, and went back to his bunk. He didn't get much sleep, even after grabbing another blanket, but it was better than nothing.

* * *

Under Kanan's request, the Ghost crew had went to Lothal to continue Ezra's training. Kanan's idea was that he'd be more in sync with the Force if they went back to his home planet. It was something he heard from his master once, why younger padawans trained in the same area for the majority of their childhoods. He kept the few quotes he remembered of her close, and was determined to use them.

It was the morning, and the padawan and master sat under a small cliff in a meditative stance, a small distance from the Ghost. Ezra still wasn't feeling all that good; he skipped breakfast, saying he heard something fry in the night, and that he'd check it out. In all actuality, he just couldn't eat. The idea was unappealing to him at the time, and just made him feel even sicker. As for his bruise.. He kept his sleeves folded back to his elbows, just enough to cover the bruise.

While he wasn't feeling amazing, it was a nice day, and he could enjoy that. A familiar smell that gave him comfort, and the distant sounds of lothcats running around in the grass gave him memories of when his earlier life wasn't so bad. It was.. Nice, until a breeze came. That sent a crowd of shivers through Ezra, and Kanan obviously noticed the ragged sigh from the youth.

Kanan opened his eyes, feeling a short and sudden emotion of exhaustion through the Force. His gaze fell upon Ezra, his eyebrows tilting up in a bit of concern. "Ezra?"

Ezra met Kanan's sight for a moment, before looking away with a subtle hint of shame. "Sorry," He said, trying to think of an excuse. "The wind surprised me, there usually isn't any on Lothal." A light and strained chuckle erupted from him, hoping that Kanan would buy it.

He wasn't. "Ezra," He said again. The boy flinched a bit, suddenly repressing a coughing fit that would surely give away his sickness. Kanan glanced at his fidgeting hand, rubbing his elbow, and cocked his eyebrows. It wasn't in an accusing manner, but more of a worried one. "Are you feeling alright?"

Ezra felt powerless in this situation, hesitating before giving a nod. He tried to say yes, but instead coughed, trying to cover it with a sigh and a arm stretch. He waited a few moments before forcing himself to speak, his voice obviously strained, but Ezra was oblivious to it. "I'm just.. tired." With that, he took a subtly ragged breath in, and exhaled, closing his eyes and trying to get back into the meditative stance.

Kanan didn't say anything as he watched him revert back into the training. He watched him, curious as to what was going on in his mind, when he noticed Ezra was trembling. A subtle one, but powerful nonetheless. This caught his attention, and he put two and two together. The older man stood up, a slight frown on his face, as Ezra opened his eyes to watch him. "You're sick."

Ezra forged confusion on his face, before shaking it. "Kanan- I'm fine," He was about to go on, but as if life just hated him at the moment, another coughing fit wrecked his body.

Kanan immediately kneeled down next to him, worry along his face. He waited until Ezra was breathing normally again, as uneven as it was, to speak again. "C'mon, we should get back to the Ghost." Hesitantly, he added, "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

Ezra shook his head as he stood up in defeat. He was a bit off balance, having to lean on the cliffside for support. His vision was spotted with black, but he ignored it and looked up at Kanan. It'd go away, just like the sickness. It always did. "It didn't seem that important," He replied, held-back strain in his voice that made Kanan visibly flinch.

He really did sound sick, and Kanan could tell. He placed a hand on Ezra's shoulder, unsure whether to support him or not, before deciding against it when Ezra stood up besides him. He sighed, motioning him to follow. "Sickness is important, you shouldn't push yourself like this." Kanan said, glancing back at Ezra before falling back to match his slower pace.

Ezra shut his eyes as he walked, a bit dazed and when he opened them again, the Ghost seemed so far. He felt a sudden wave of exhaustion from the prior night all over again, a cold sensation running through his body. His throat had numb, and his breathing felt limited. "I know.." He quietly replied, just loud enough to hear. His bruised arm started to numb and lightly hurt, and that was what just made him shut down.

Ezra stopped in the field, his hand moving up to his forehead as he tried to move the dizziness away. He could hear Kanan talking, a worried tone he only heard him use twice before, but he didn't listen. His vision was dotted, and he couldn't move; it scared him, actually, and he couldn't process what was going on. His knees buckled beneath him, exhaustion giving in, and he fell. The last thing he remembered was waiting to hit the ground, but never doing so.


	3. Chapter 3

**Well; here's the third chapter. I'd like to address a few things beforehand, so feel free to skip the bolded if you want to get to the chapter.**

 **First off- Thank you, to everyone who favorited this and followed me! I'm still a bit iffy on my writing, as I have a problem of rapidly switching between third person perspectives. Hah, to hell with me on that matter. I can say I'm trying, though.**

 **Thank you to Ej and Rotashark for the kind reviews! I've always loved getting comments or reviews on things, and I'm always worried of what they are. Like- Criticism aimed at helping the writer is fine- but flaming always has me worried. Fortunately, the Swr fandom seems extremely tame and friendly. Once again- Thank you to the two! Means a lot.**

 **I'm most likely going to post fanfiction ideas after the chapter, as this is [most likely] going to be the last one. Check after the passage for the bolded if you want to look through them. Feel more than free to post a comment if you favor on over the other.**

 **Anyway, I'm writing this at... 2:06 am. Hah, I'm always getting writing motivation at this time. A love-hate relationship, rip. I'll regret it later, anywho, time for the chapter.**

 **First part is based on the time I was on painkillers for my wisdom teeth. Weird af but was the definition of illness**

* * *

It felt like he was... floating?

He couldn't see anything- that, or he was just surrounded by endless darkness. Whether his eyes were open or closed, again, he could not tell. It was an odd sensation, but a strangely peaceful one. Thinking wasn't hard, but a feeling of sleepiness pulled at him just enough to not have the will to think, or move, or anything, really. All he could really feel was the Force, and-

 _Ezra._ The name tugged his senses. It faintly rung out in his head, like he heard it, but all he could recognize was the subtle _hum_ of things he couldn't momentarily name, and.. A sigh?

 _Ezra-_ It called once again, the presence breaking his peacefulness. His senses were ragged and dazed, not having the control he wanted over his body. All he could do was lay there as he started to come to. An ache throughout his body made itself present, more aggressive at his throat and one of his arms. All together, Ezra felt death. A numb death, if anything.

He only then could register murmurs to his side. Masculine and feminine, and both worried. It was faint, brushed into the hum of the Ghost, but it was soothing to hear. Barely conscious, he heard his name again; only this time, he could tell it was spoken aloud. "Ezra."

The boy groaned, a strained sound barely erupting. He felt a hand tap and rest on his shoulder, before something was removed from his forehead. He hadn't realized it was there, but without it, his head throbbed from heat. Another sound erupted from him, a cross between a sigh and a breathy groan. He moved his arms to get in a more comfortable position, only to jab his injured arm into the walling.

His eyes opened instinctively, groggily jerking back, lividly conscious now. Wounded arm to chest, he tried to sit up, only to be pushed down by a thin hand pulling him by the shoulder. "Gods, Ezra, you had me worried." Hera.

Submitting with quiet sigh, the dampened cloth was replaced on his forehead. Still in a bit of a daze, his eyes flickered up at the two besides him. Hera was kneeling down besides him, despite having a chair behind her, moving his hair to the side and setting the back of her hand to the side of his head. The other; Kanan. He was sitting in his own chair with a quick-table in front of him, boxes of... He couldn't read the labels. Boxes on the table, opened, as Kanan moved the bottles and containers back and forth, his hands seemingly always doing something. His eyes, however, weren't caught on the containers. They were anxiety-ringed, looking at Ezra and occasionally glancing at Hera; to which she returned.

Hera chuckled, a forced one as she removed her hand from Ezra's cheek. "You're pretty sick." She said, to which Ezra looked away in sarcastic oblivion. Her head moved to face Kanan, motioning to a bottle. As Kanan opened it and handed the contents to Hera, she moved back to face Ezra. Her free hand gently picked up Ezra's good hand, setting the fever-reducers in his palm. "Look, I know you're uncomfortable, but I need you to take these." He did so, and Hera continued. "That's all we have. The medicine we got from the last supply run was outdated, so we need to leave to get some more." Ezra's face burned with a hint of shame, looking away like a child about to get scowled at. She hesitated, a motherly tone fringing her next words. "Just.. Get some rest, you'll be better soon."

Ezra nodded, looking up at her as she got up and left. Kanan, still in the room, sat back in his chair and let out a sigh. An awful silence encased the two for a while, until the Jedi spoke up. "How long have you been sick?" It didn't sound necessarily like a question, but not like an accusation, either.

He looked down, propping himself on his good arm and brushing over the bruise on his other. "I don't know.." A frown slipped itself on Kanan's face as he looked at the padawan, before slightly shaking his head.

"Why didn't you tell us earlier?"

His throat was dry, and a raspy sigh started his answer. "I.." He started, but stopped. He stared at the wall for a minute, before continuing. "It would've passed, they all do."

This obviously caught Kanan's attention as his sight held Ezra's more intensely, before he looked away in realization. "Oh," Was his quiet answer. The silence from before lingered once again, before Kanan, once again, spoke up. "You don't need to wait out your sicknesses, we have everything to help."

Ezra shifted uncomfortably, obviously somewhat affected by this statement. "It's lifestyle." He replied, before laying back down. A sudden wave of exhaustion hit him again, but something motivated him to stay awake. At least, just for a little bit longer.

"Lifestyles adapt."

"After years?" He snickered, only for it to be canceled out with a cough. "It'll be hard."

"It's still possible." Kanan's voice was more gentle now, obviously trying to say the right things; especially concerning Ezra's past. When Ezra didn't answer for a time, Kanan stood up to meet Hera for the medicine run. A slight glance back at the sick Ezra, and he began on his way.

"Kanan?" Ezra said, faintly and tired, making him stop at the door.

He looked over his shoulder, catching eye contact. "Yeah?"

There was a slight pause, neither moving, before Ezra spoke up and cut the silence.

"Thank you."

* * *

 **¯\\_(** **ツ** **)_/¯ kms**

 **Anyway! Here's the plots for the other fanfictions, I'd like feedback on them.**

 **A short Kanera fic where they caught a small version of the sickness Ezra had, and they're just being sick together**

 **Remember how Kanan got blinded? Well damn what if Ezra was the one who got blinded lol**

 **Hera Nightmares.**

 **Kanan Nightmares.**

 **Ezra Nightmares.**

 **Orr remember the lothcat drawing besides sabine's pheonix painting in season 3? I could write that scene**

 **Ya'll tell me**


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